The Storyteller
by DaBluBanana
Summary: "The gathering began at exactly five o'clock on a rather chill evening in the middle of march..." and like any meeting between characters who don't know that they're characters, it was a rather curious event indeed. What happens when you get a vampire, a ghost, a corpse, and a storyteller into the same room?
1. The Gathering

**A/N: I had to. I absolutely had to. This idea hit me eons ago, and I've only just recently gotten around to finishing it. I always wondered what would happen if you gathered a bunch of similar characters from different fandoms in the same room...this was the result. I have a short epilogue of sorts that will be up in a few days or so. I've nearly finished it. If anyone wants me to do a sequel...well. Just let me know. So anyways...****Enjoy! Review!**

* * *

The gathering began at exactly five o'clock on a rather chill evening in the middle of March. Nobody was quite sure of the exact date, nor even the day of the week—I suppose you could say that getting each participant for this meeting in the same place at the same time was somewhat of a hassle. As it was, three teenage boys, pale and dark-haired, every one of them, awoke from a sedated sleep at pretty much the same time, finding themselves in plain black leather office chairs around a blank metal table. This table was cold to the touch and had absolutely nothing on it—though there were five chairs sitting around it. At least four of them were occupied—the first three by the aforementioned teenagers, who, at this present time, were taking in their surroundings quickly, quietly, inconspicuously, and very professionally. The fourth chair had a bored-looking man sitting in it, dressed in just a t-shirt and jeans. His left hand was incessantly tapping against his thigh, and his right was drumming fingers on the table.

The last chair, on one of the short ends of the table, was faced away from it, so it was pretty much impossible to tell if someone was in it or not. Regardless of this fact, the instant each boy had completed the almost methodical check of the room, their eyes focused on this chair, one glaring at it, one considering it critically, and the last displaying an almost innocent curiosity. Not one of them recognized this place. None of them knew each other. But all had been in enough similar situations to know that the wisest thing to do, given the circumstances, was to remain quiet and still.

"I'm sure you're all wondering where the hell you're at," a voice said loudly. Only the man at the end of the table jumped—the others hardly reacted at all. "Hm," mused the voice. "You truly do live up to expectations. I'm glad to see that none of you are all that weirded out at the moment." The voice was echoing fairly loudly in the room, which had just one door and no windows. There was a balcony following the curve of one wall, but that was about it. Clear yet distorted by the echoes, the voice sounded _young_.

The chair at the head of the table slowly turned around, revealing…nothing. The seat was empty.

"Gotcha!" the voice practically shouted in one of the boys' ears. He whipped around, lashing out with an elbow, but the owner of the voice had already moved away. "Good reflexes. You've been busy. As far as I recall, you couldn't knock out a squirrel with that punch of yours a few months ago," the voice told the boy, and now that its owner was closer, and visible, it was quite obviously female. The girl turned and smiled at the three boys at the table, ignoring the man. Short, light-brown hair, teal-ish eyes, black pants and a dark gray jacket. Casual, of course, but not a single person present was fooled.

"Don't even think about it," the girl directed at a boy whose hand had wandered towards his pocket. She sat down at the one empty seat. Her appearance seemed to intrigue the three around her—how old was she? Fourteen? Fifteen? About their own age. No one said a word, of course, but she seemed to sense their interest in what was going on; it made her smile, revealing a cheeky grin that practically screamed genius. She was smart, and knew it.

"It's fantastic to be able to see you all in person," the girl said eventually, once she'd finished taking the boys in. They were quick to notice that she could hardly keep the excitement out of her voice. "You have no idea how incredible this is. For me, anyways." The man at the other end of the table rolled his eyes, clearly saying, "_Can we just get on with it?"_

"In case you hadn't already noticed," the girl started, crossing her arms and leaning forward, "all three of you have a lot in common. More so than you realize." No one said anything. They all simply watched in fascination. "First off, could everyone please tell me their ages?"

"Fourteen," muttered one of the boys, dressed in a black t-shirt and aviator jacket, looking around him with curiosity evident in dark eyes.

"Fifteen," countered another, this one with more of a fascination evident in his face—each eye was a different color, but no one was sure if it made him look older or younger.

"Sixteen," the last boy said quietly, in a tone that implied something along the lines of, _I win_. He was toying with a ring on his finger and not looking up. "Your point?"

The girl nodded, as though none of this surprised her. As a matter of fact, it didn't. She'd simply wanted to see to what extent the boys were planning to be honest with each other. "My point, Tom, is that you're all obviously similar in age. I am as well, I suppose. I'm fourteen," the girl shared, voice not changing as she looked to each person there. The boy whom she'd called by name glared at her in silence—she knew more about them than they'd realized. "That's just one thing you have in common," the girl continued. "The second is your appearance, which really demonstrates your need for more sun. You're either at a computer all day, chilling underground, or keeping to the night to perform your less-than-lawful activities. Dark hair, pale skin? Honestly, you should hear how people see you," she stated. "Let's see…you've been described as a vampire," she said to the boy with multi-colored eyes. "You've been described as a ghost," she added to the boy who'd spoken first. His hair was longest out of the three of them. "And you've been described as a corpse," she said finally to Tom. "I honestly can't say I'm surprised, knowing what you're to become."

Tom's eyes narrowed. A Seer?

"Third," she continued, seemingly oblivious to the hostility and tension started to creep into the room, "you've all been shunned. Misunderstood. Hated because you're feared. And that's probably the biggest reason I've brought you three together. I just want to talk. I have a proposition, as well, but if any of you have any reason not to accept it, you can go straight back to your normal lives and not remember any of this at all." Not a single boy around her doubted her words—this she knew.

"Mind wipe for you, Lithe for you, and Memory Charm for you," she listed off, pointing to each boy in turn. "Now, I know none of you know each other," she continued, with a tone that was clearly asking for their patience while she got to the point, "and as a matter of fact, none of you know me. You can call me Livra for now." Livra nodded, not seemingly disturbed by the lack of reaction from those around her.

"You can go, if you'd like," she added to the bored man at the end of the table. As he got up to go, the door opening automatically to let him out, Livra's gaze sought the boy with multi-colored eyes. He didn't react as he watched the man leave, nor when the doors slid shut behind him. Smiling, Livra noted, "So you're over the Complex, I see. That's good…that's good." The boy turned to face her so quickly it was as though he'd been stung. Like Tom, his eyes suddenly narrowed, wondering. Suspicious.

"You can forget about it, Nico," Livra announced suddenly. All three boys turned to look at her, and then two of them turned to face the one in the jacket. "The floor's lit and there are too many lights in this room to create a substantial enough shadow for you." His hands gripped the edge of the table. Something about this girl was unnerving all three of them. None of them had any idea what she was talking about to each of the other boys, but it was evident that every word she spoke to a specific boy had an extreme relevance to them. Not a single syllable failed to shock them. She knew so much already…

"So, anyone care to share about their secret worlds?" Livra asked into the silence that was steadily growing deeper. "No? Alright, I suppose I will then. Let's start with…"

This got just the reaction she was expecting—all three boys stood up suddenly, and she was instantly on her feet as well. In her left hand was what looked like a gun but seemed far too sci-fi to be real—this was aimed at the boy with the strange eyes. In her right hand was a stick—pointed right at Tom. And strapped to her belt, which the boys had been unable to see before, hung a short sword that practically glowed, even in the well-lit room. "Sit down, Tom. Artemis. Nico," Livra ordered. For a moment, nothing happened as each boy took in the strange weapons she was carrying. Each one seemed to mean something to exactly one of the boys, and, a pair of eyes on each one, they slowly settled back down into their seats.

"Honestly, I was starting to hope that I wouldn't have had to yank those out just yet, but hey, I've got to make sure you'll all at least listen, right?" Livra apologized, although no one present truly believed that this constituted as an adequate apology. They were already planning ways in which they could overpower her, and perhaps each other.

"So, as I was saying," she rabbled on, "you all come from relatively secret worlds. Hidden across the planet, yet still there, always paralleling the histories of the mortals. Mud men. Muggles. Whatever term you prefer." Livra paused for a minute, letting each sentence sink in silently before moving on. "The second you discovered these worlds, you learned quite a few things. For one, magic is real. Things will always be happening that no one can possibly explain, not unless they were somehow inside. Not unless they knew the true nature of the things that no one sees."

Nods.

"Of course, now we get into contrasting you three," Livra sighed, as though she had really hoped not to go into this until later. To be frank, though, the "meeting" hadn't even been going for five minutes. "I guess it'd be best to have a few introductions first? Just so we all know who we're dealing with?" she suggested, already guessing that her answer would be a resounding silence. "Alright then," she said brightly, "let's start with you." Livra turned to face the boy in the jacket.

"Boys, meet Nico Di Angelo, son of Hades, lord of the dead, who could probably have you swallowed up by the ground in seconds if you proved to be any kind of threat," she said, smiling. "That won't work here, by the way," she added to Nico, gesturing around the room. "See, we're not exactly on the ground…and as I've already mentioned, shadow travel isn't exactly possible, either. Too much light." Nico nodded, glancing suspiciously at this strange girl, hand resting on his lap. Livra noticed it tense for a moment. "You try going for that sword of yours, I'm going to have to clash blades with you," she warned, tapping a few fingers on her own sword. "Enchanted metal alloy. So not only did I find someone that could mix celestial bronze and imperial gold together with just some plain old iron, but this person happened to be a goblin."

The other boys stared at her. One, the one she'd called Tom, seemed surprised, but also slightly impressed. He hadn't been sure about what terms she'd been using, but it was evident that what she'd claimed made sense. On the other hand, the other boy was staring at her as though she was insane.

"You managed to get a _goblin_ to not only learn how to make anything sharper than a sphere, but to actually fabricate a new alloy?" he asked incredulously.

"Not your kind of goblin," Livra said simply. "So why don't we introduce you next, hm?" The boy's brow furrowed.

"Well, everyone, this is Artemis Fowl—_different Artemis_, Nico! Good grief, can't you tell the difference between a boy and a girl? Artemis here is a fairly strong ally to the People, the magical people—different population, Tom. Chill. What was I saying? Ah, yes, he also happens to be one of the youngest, wealthiest geniuses on the planet, and a criminal mastermind to boot. Just saying." Tom glanced at him, and Artemis stared resolutely back.

Livra sighed exasperatedly. "I hate this ridiculous male dominance thing. Quit the staring contest, will you? I'm the one in power here." She commanded the attention of the three boys once again. She hesitated a moment, and then nodded, looking pleased. "And if a single one of you starts getting on my case about the proper plural form of the word 'genius', I will scream. This is the English language for cripes' sake. When was the last time it made sense?"

A shrug. A nod. An eyeroll.

"Good. So that leaves Tom Riddle. Orphan, relatively traumatic childhood…you all know the story. Or at least the basics—yet another similarity. Difference? Tom managed to begin mastering his abilities before even being informed of his lineage or potential. Wizards aren't usually found out in the…normal world," Livra decided. "By the way, your ring is perfectly safe. I haven't done anything to it. As is your diary," she added to Tom, whose face betrayed a tiny flash of fear while his fist closed around the ring. "You will have the latter returned to you, in time."

"You keep a diary," Nico said slowly, looking a little confused.

Livra sighed again, sounding almost irritated now. "Yes, yes, so does Artemis. Don't be so judgmental—words are extremely powerful things, and diaries are good things to keep. They protect memories. Stories. And in this case, something slightly more unstable." She glanced pointedly at Tom, who fidgeted nervously in his chair.

"Who told you all of this?" the boy she'd called Artemis asked. "I can't imagine you've been keeping surveillance, because at least one of us would have known."

Laughter rang throughout the room, and Livra clutched at her stomach, nodding ecstatically. "Of course not," she exclaimed, grinning. "Like I said, words are powerful things. I think all three of you would be quite interested to know what I have in my library. _Who_ I have in my library, that is." Unsatisfied, the boy leaned back and crossed his arms. She hadn't really answered his question.

"I know I haven't," she said with a smirk, meeting his suspicious gaze. "_Out _of my head!" she snapped suddenly at Tom. "I appreciate the effort, but I'd like to keep my _own_ thoughts private, if you please. Don't doubt for a moment that I'm a far better Occlumens that you are a Legilimens. Most likely the other way around, too," she added, raising her eyebrows.

"Now, what was I saying?"

"You weren't really saying anything," Nico said, sounding almost bored now. "None of us have any idea what you're talking about unless you're actually talking _to_ us, so I think we'd all appreciate some answers now."

Clapping and smiling again, Livra said, "Excellent, excellent! Right to the point! Although," she added, nodding seriously, "I'd like to share my proposition with you first if you don't mind. If there's any chance your memories of this meeting return, we don't want you to know more about each other than what I've already told you. So if you decide to turn down my offer, I'll send you off with no recollections whatsoever."

The boys looked at one another, and through some silent conversation, they came to an unspoken agreement. "Alright," Tom muttered, "what is this proposition?"

Livra stood suddenly, and with a wave of her hand, a screen—projected onto the wall behind her by some unseen device—appeared. Her expression now slightly more serious, Livra pointed at the wall, where a photograph of some kind appeared. It looked sort of like a flame, in a way, other than the fact that it was a deep green and floating around, seemingly with no source and giving off no light in its dark surroundings. "This is a material I like to call Scindarus," Livra said plainly, crossing her arms, "from the latin '_scindo'_ which means—"

"—to separate," Artemis finished for her. She nodded at him.

"Exactly."

Another wave of her hand and the screen went blank. "Now," she continued in a very effective 'lecture' voice, "let's say, for now, that you are currently here—" she pointed at the screen and a tiny ellipse appeared. It was red. "Everything around—"she waved her hand, and the background became white, "is something rather like empty space, but not. See, 'space' is a term referring to the locations dimensional objects exist in, while this here is more like the space between spaces."

"Are we planning on delving into the realm of inter-dimensional travel?" Artemis asked somewhat curiously.

Livra nodded. "That 'place' on this map—because it's going to be a map soon enough—is actually a plane of existence, one that is constructed from space and time. Einstein called it space-time," she said. Waving her hand once more, tiny letters appeared on the red oval. "Let's call this dimension Earth Zero."

She'd officially captured the attention of all three boys. Though they all still _considered_ various plans of action such as attack or flight, their curiosity was piqued enough that they were willing to continue listening. "Keep in mind, of course, that Earth Zero obviously isn't the only dimension," Livra pointed out, and with another wave, dozens of ellipses, all different sizes and colors, appeared on the white space-between-spaces. "For example, let's say this blue one and this black one are Earths One and Two," she said. The labels appeared. "They are Earth-_like_ dimensions, but with what we'd call made-up landmasses and nations, completely different cultures and often different species from our own. Different galaxies."

Livra met each of their eyes and they nodded in turn, all understanding. With another wave of her hand, labels appeared on all the rest of the ellipses, but before they could read more than one or two of them—of which Earth One, Middle Earth, and Terabithia were a part—Earth Zero grew in size until it covered the entire screen.

"Now, think of it this way—if this is one dimension," Livra continued, "then there must, in it, exist many universes, right?" Another wave of her hand. The red faded until hundreds of different colors filled the shape, some overlapping, others with definable borders. "Most of them are separated by space, like these two here—" she pointed at a green zone and a teal zone, which blended into one another seamlessly, "but others are separated by time, which puts things on different planes of existence." Earth Zero rotated, showing that it was actually three-dimensional, and the zones with proper borders appeared on multiple levels. "You follow?"

All three of them nodded, though looked slightly unconvinced.

"All of this information is accurate," Livra said pointedly. "I can't tell you how I know, but it is. You ought to know how crazy the truth can sound." She waited a moment to see if any of them would say anything. None of them did.

"So, dimensions made of universes, all floating in this space-between-spaces," she went on. Tapping the screen again, which isolated one of the universes and caused it to fill the screen, she said, "Now each universe, too, is split up in a similar way, but between worlds. Planets, perhaps. A nebula." An image resembling the cosmos faded onto the great green shape. "And these worlds are all separated into realities. Two people may exist as the same person, at the same time, in totally different places. And vice versa. Think of these realities as streams—" intricate lines appeared, weaving across the image "—that are constantly flowing into each other, forking off..."

Livra turned to face them. "And in each reality are billions upon billions of stories," she said, smiling almost hungrily. "Every person has one. And every story is made of words...and words are what hold things together."

Her words hung in the air, the room's acoustics whispering them repeatedly, distorting them until they were unintelligible. The boys turned from Livra to one another, searching for truth in the former's eyes and belief in those of the latter. Finding both, Nico glanced at the girl once more.

"And what about that...scindarius?" he asked hesitantly, sounding more wary than curious. "What does that have to do with all of these...worlds? These stories?"

Livra's eyes closed and her face tightened briefly. "It's breaking," she said, her voice doing the same. "Scindarius is tearing through the words. Destroying...separating them." When she turned around, her back to her audience, the screen went blank. "Barriers are falling. Stability is gone. Chaos is slowly eking its way into every orifice. It's torn apart countless stories...including my own. If someone doesn't stop it, everything will fall apart. We'll be plunged into a universal world of confusion and destruction."

"And you want us to help you."

Artemis had spoken, breaking the silence that followed her proclamation. It intrigued them, certainly, wondering, among other things, what her story had been about before it'd been sheared.

Tom nodded. "Why us?"

Both boys received a shrug in response. "Working together, bringing together multiple stories...that's the only way that this will work," Livra said.

With a thoughtful expression, Artemis asked then, "And what if we decline? What then? Are there any others that can help you?"

At that, Livra couldn't help but grin impishly. "Is that a 'no'?" she asked playfully. "Rest assured that you have no obligation to assist me. It is not on your head or your shoulders to stop this scindarius. I leave that decision entirely up to you."

Livra dropped her hands to her sides and waited, unmoving and unspeaking. She had said her part and was now only waiting for their responses.

After a minute or so of silence, Tom spoke again. "What's in it for us?"

Nico glanced at him curiously, but Artemis nodded in seeming understanding.

With a sigh that belied the grin on her face, Livra looked him in the eye and said clearly, "There is none beyond stopping this before it has the chance to tear your own story apart."

Three nods. Then Nico asked, "How likely is that?"

His answer was a shrug and a small puff of air. "Who knows?" Livra said gravely, adding uncertainly, "Although, we have noticed a pattern."

_We_. The entire group took notice of the word. One of them wondered vaguely if she had slipped up on purpose. One nodded in satisfaction, decision now made. One felt guilt slowly ebb away.

Moving on as though unaware of her audience's internal reactions—no one was fooled—Livra explained, "It is the outlying stories that are more at risk. What we've found is that...the more links a story has, the safer it is. The more the stories have been spread in others, the more connections. The more connections, the more stability. And believe me...all of your stories have _many_ connections."

Strike two. A second of the three made his decision. "Less at risk, then," Tom clarified quietly. Livra nodded, smiling sadly as though she knew what they were all thinking. She sighed again, then, and, as though she knew she were hammering the last nail into the coffin, she added,

"You may want to know this: time does not stop for you. For me. For any of us. The time you spend here is time you spend separated from your own story."

She looked all of them in the eye in turn. What the boys saw in her gaze told them that she knew their decisions were made, that all else she said was simply to abolish any other doubts. When she'd finished examining all of them, she nodded and her smile disappeared. "Very well," she said with finality. Livra straightened her back. "You will maintain no recollections of this incident. Just follow the corridor—" the door that the man had exited through opened to reveal a simple hallway, "—and that's that."

Her audience stood, eyed one another warily, and gave her a final look before crossing the room. Just before they all disappeared through the door, Livra called out after them, "If it's any comfort..."

All three of them stopped and turned. One curious. One hesitant. One indifferent. Livra noted their reactions and her smile returned before she sent them off on their way with thirteen unorthodox parting words.

"You're not the first I've asked, and you certainly won't be the last."

* * *

**A/N: You know you want to...even if it's just to remind me that I can't write canon characters to save my life.**


	2. Epilogue

**A/N: So here it is. The epilogue of sorts. You have to admit that these characters would _totally_ agree to something like this. Read and review!**

**And because I forgot last chapter (this is my first uploaded story, after all), here's a disclaimer: _clearly_ I'm not J.K. Rowling, Rick Riordan, Eoin Colfer, Cornelia Funke, Markus Zusak, or Neil Shusterman. I don't own any of these characters. (Although I did manage to list off all of those authors FROM MEMORY. Thank you, thank you.) **

* * *

The two blonde girls in the library looked up when their friend wandered back in, alone. They both looked around the same age as Livra, though one had long, wavy hair and the other's locks were sheared short, her face slightly gaunt.

"How did it go?" asked the former, putting down the book she'd been flipping through and picking up another. Her voice was soft...beautiful...like her words flowed from a tongue of silver. The stacks of tomes and volumes on the table between the two girls were shoved aside so that they could both see the newcomer.

Livra sat down next to them and rubbed her eyes tiredly, though she did offer them both a wry grin. "About as good as can be expected, Meggie. I did tell you that none of them would go for it. They're either too smart, too cautious, or too selfish for their own good," she said, a bit of humor evident in her tone. She picked up a book herself, cracked it open, and then flipped it right side up.

The wan blonde sighed dramatically. "It really is shame," she said with sarcastic sadness, a subtle German accent marring her words. "They would have been valuable."

Meggie laughed and whacked the girl's shoulder playfully with her book. "Oh, come off it, Liesel, you just wanted to see if Nico was actually shorter than you." All three of them laughed at that.

"But honestly," Liesel went on, "we all know they have _some_ small streak of good in them, I was just thinking that maybe—"

Meggie cut her off right there, "I'm sorry, did you just imply that Riddle has a 'good streak'?"

Livra snorted and Liesel rolled her eyes. "Well, I suppose not," she admitted without much reluctance, "but I'd hoped that at least _one_ of them might accept the invitation, even just in the name of knowledge." Livra glanced at her over the top of the book—an old copy of _The Fellowship of the Ring_—and smirked.

"Not everyone loves books as much as we do, Liesel," she chastised playfully. Liesel crossed her arms and put her nose snootily in the air. She sniffed disdainfully.

"Perhaps not," she retorted, "but they had to at least have been _curious_, don't you think?"

Livra shrugged, and they all went back to their books. The sound of turning pages was the only noise that disrupted the silence of the room.

It was an impressive library, for sure: the ceiling was arched and shelves towered nearly forty feet high, forming something of a maze throughout the area that boasted the size of about three basketball courts. Some shelves curved, others stopped abruptly, and still others formed staircases to reach other levels. A favorite location—the home of the futuristic dystopia genre—formed a twenty-foot high series of stepping stones that led to the magical realm of fantasy novels. Some shelves—those along the walls—had large gaps in them to make room for windows, through which sunlight streamed.

Like any library, dust floated through the air like streams of magic. The sun would occasionally catch a bit of grime at just the right angle, and it would sparkle momentarily before settling on a surface only to be brushed off by a careful hand.

Every once in a while, one of the girls would set the book she'd been flipping through in one of the growing piles around her, and then pick up another either from the floor or from a different stack. (At one point, Meggie and Livra just swapped books without even looking up. At another, Liesel slipped one into her jacket before the others could notice.)

Livra finally put her ninth book down—something by Suzanne Collins—and Liesel looked up from _Twilight_ while Meggie carefully bookmarked a page in _Wolf Brother_. They both looked at her expectantly. It was evident that she held the most authority of the three. "So how should we go about the next group?" Livra asked carefully, leaning back in her chair.

Standing and picking up one of the stacks to reshelf, Liesel grunted, "Maybe this time we bring them in by name?"

Meggie pointed at a few of the books in the room—one on a shelf and two under the table—and suggested, "Jackson, Weasley, and Blakeney?"

Liesel and Livra both burst out laughing and the former almost dropped her stack of books. Shaking with mirth, Livra managed to choke out, "Can you...can you _imagine_ having the three of them...in...in the same...same _room_?" She continued cackling madly.

Liesel added, having found a small armchair to deposit her load, "One would start singing _God Save the Queen_, another would make a stupid comment about his accent, and the third would say something defensive about the British until the second stole his glasses."

After thinking on that image for a second, Meggie snorted, and Livra suggested, "How about Lightwood, Rider, and His Royal Archduke-ishness?"

Meggie frowned at that, the giggles gone. "They don't have the same name."

Livra gave her a _look_ and snorted. "Alec, Alex, and Aleksander?" she replied disbelievingly. "I think they're close enough."

Liesel returned to lean against a nearby shelf and suggested, "Solace and Treaty?"

Meggie nodded, looking sarcastically thoughtful and said, "Well, you know what they say: if there's a Will, there's a way." All three of them started laughing hysterically.

"But—" Livra broke in before they could get too carried away, "that does remind me. We could gather the archers."

They all had to sit and think for a second, then they all jumped to their feet and started searching the room for inspiration. "Will and Will, like you said," Meggie threw out first.

"And while we're at it, might as well throw Halt in there as well," Livra added to the list.

"Legolas," Liesel said, glancing back at the table.

"Robin Hood."

"Eragon?"

"He doesn't count. His aim sucks."

There was silence for a second.

"Katniss."

A pause.

"Renn."

Another pause.

"Susan."

"Alright, I think it's obvious we're exceeding our maximum capacity," Livra said, interrupting everyone's train of thought. "We don't want a brawl to break out. New ideas?"

Meggie frowned from on top of a low shelf. "We could...pull the prophecy kids," she suggested tentatively.

Livra and Liesel glanced at one another. "Percy, Harry, and Torak?" Livra said finally, tapping her fingers thoughtfully on the table. The others nodded, hesitantly at first, and then with more assurance.

"I'd feel bad," Meggie said honestly, shrugging. "They really kind of all got the raw end of the deal, you know? It would suck getting dragged into this whole mess when they already have their _own_ destinies to worry about." The others nodded in agreement.

Liesel spoke up. "But at the same time...we're going to need as many as we can get, eventually, and we all know that there's no way they'll say no."

Silence filled the room as they all considered the option.

"Or...you could write names on slips of paper and draw them out of a hat like _normal_ people," suggested a voice from the doorway. A boy—around seventeen, whose eyes were oh-so-subtly different shades of brown—leaned against the frame and eyed them suspiciously as though questioning their sanity.

Without looking up, the three girls said in unison, "Shut up, Connor."

He threw his hands in the air in surrender. A shark adorned one forearm. "I'm just saying."

With an irritated sigh, Livra turned to look at him retorted, "Oh, go suck face with Risa or something. We're busy."

Connor wandered off, shaking his head and calling back down the hallway, "You're welcome."

Meggie rolled her eyes and glanced at the door. "Good at training. Good at improvising. Good at potentially winning a war. But he's completely _useless_ when it comes to amassing an army of book characters." Neither of her companions showed any reaction to the utter absurdity of the notion, a token to the experiences that had brought them to that point.

Nearly at the same time the three of them sighed. Livra brought her hands together in front of her when they exchanged glances. An unspoken agreement had been reached.

"Who takes point this go around?" Livra asked resignedly. Meggie and Liesel eyed one another. There was silence that buzzed with hesitancy and deep thought.

"Why not all three of us?" Meggie suggested finally. Her friends grinned—slowly, but surely. They nodded and sat back on their heels, mouths clamped firmly shut. There was nothing left to be said—only a gathering to plan.

Liesel held the door for them while they all filed out of the library, leaving it empty and silent. The sunlight seemed to dim. Color seemed to fade from the library walls.

Some librarians prefer it that way—impersonal, like an institution. A holy ground where no mortals shall ever step foot...or at least those that snap their gum too loudly or dog-ear their pages. These libraries are lonely: their books remain closed, their shelves gather dust, and the magic of a written word is lost in the absence of readers.

Meggie understood that power. Her world was built on it—it thrived on it. Her library needed to be a home; someplace warm, someplace safe. Someplace where stories were woven like spells.

Liesel's library was a wonder. It was freedom. It was built from curiosity and a need to understand the world and some slightly underhanded methods of retrieving books. Her hunger fuelled its growth. Knowledge is never complete.

Livra saw the books as adventures. As lives—as characters—as an _army_ ready to conquer. Her library was her headquarters. It was her hideaway and her refuge. It was a fortress that left nothing to chance, and even in its silence, you can hear its battle cry if you listen hard enough.

Their libraries are _alive_.

Is yours?

* * *

**A/N: Mine is a bunch of PDFs on my computer that were downloaded illegally, so I'm not sure if it can be considered _alive_, per se. Anyways. Hope you enjoyed. This was really entertaining to write. Sorry it seems kind of rushed.**

**And again...if you really want to know how this next gathering goes...all you have to do is ask.**

**In a review.**

***Hint hint***


End file.
